


a verb in perfect view

by doubtthestars



Series: with the sun in our eyes [3]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, Barebacking, Comeplay, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 12:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubtthestars/pseuds/doubtthestars
Summary: set after the schalke - bayern matchSix months after the transfer, Basti and Niklas have some time to themselves.





	1. recall something that's gone from me

**Author's Note:**

> taking a break from demon AU somehow means delving back into werewolves i guess. thanks to colleen for listening to me complain and suggesting more separation angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> titles from Movement by Hozier, bless that fey creature. 
> 
> unedited and unrefined as always.

He’s clinging to him, and it almost feels like they’re back to a year ago when he couldn’t even wrap his head around the word pack. It’s been six months of more lows than highs and Basti had five days of uninterrupted Niklas time that he shouldn’t squander with his best imitation of an octopus. 

“Sippi?” Niklas’ hand doesn’t stop running down his back but he sounds worried. He shouldn’t be this desperate. It’s been less than five weeks since winter break where they were basically in each other’s pockets the entire time. It’s been ten days since he spent the full moon with Niklas, so he shouldn’t be trying to glue himself to the wolf by sheer force of will. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking in deep breaths through his nose, concentrating on Niklas and their bond.

“Sorry,” he croaks out. “Just give me a minute.” 

Niklas moves, to gather him up onto his lap, to make Basti lay his head on his shoulder. He can feel Niklas change his breathing pattern to match his and it helps him feel less untethered and helpless.

He hates their situation more than he wants to admit. He hates having to keep time by the hours and days he gets to be with Niklas because it’s the only time he doesn’t feel like he’s treading water.

“Please, let me talk to Ralf.” Niklas has said those words in ten different ways over the months they’ve been separated, but tonight, it’s gentle enough that Basti almost gives in and says yes. Instead, he snuggles into Niklas more. Sometimes, Basti thinks about becoming a werewolf, about filling in the blanks of the days and months Niklas has been away by smelling it on him as easily as he can smell the laundry soap and body wash that lingers on him as he tucks his head in closer to Niklas’ neck. 

Their codependency makes him crazy.

“He isn’t my keeper or my dad.” Basti grumbles partially into Niklas’ shirt.

Niklas growls out of frustration. It’s barely in the audible range so Basti doesn’t feel like he has to get up off him to continue the argument, but he does lift his head to watch Niklas better.

“Wolf politics are the last thing he needs to add to his worries.” It’s a familiar part of his counter-argument. It wasn’t even really politics as much as courtesy and Basti was having a hard enough time with the team without the extra layer of complication. Niklas huffs, going tense. 

“He’s the senior-most wolf and he should be able to tell how _touch-starved_ you are without me saying anything to him.” He bites out with an extra edge of anger.

“I think he’s a bit fucked up.” Basti offers, catching Niklas off guard with the new direction of their rehashed argument. He feels a little punch-drunk, but he will never admit to being touch-starved. It’s another one of the words on his list of werewolfisms that make him uncomfortable.

“Hoewedes was the last wolf as Schalke’s captain and well, you hear things, you know. Rumor has it: Bene was barely holding on, losing pack bit by bit hit him hard. They were close. Ralf and him.” He says it carefully, watching Niklas look torn between sympathy and disgruntlement. “But Ralf stayed, and he’s trying his best.” 

He pieced together most of the story from Ralf’s pointed silences on certain subjects and the rest from the rumor mill. He thought it was strange that Schalke housed an unusual amount of bitten wolves until he realized a handful of them were bitten by Hoewedes himself, and that, over everything else, told him exactly how much esteem he held in the wolf community alone. If Ralf had been a packmate to Bene, then he had lost just as much over the years. 

It wouldn’t take a genius to realize why Ralf hadn’t recognized Basti’s problem, if he was lonely too.

“You could ask Leon, or Neuer.” He settles his head back down with a sigh.

“Manu?” Niklas’ surprise is threaded with incredulity. Basti manages to shrug awkwardly in his position, feeling drowsy and done with the conversation.

“Ralf looks at him like he wants to hug him but doesn’t know if he’s allowed.” It’s worse with Manuel than the rest of the scattered ex-Schalkers, because Ralf goes quiet, looking lost in the locker room before rough determination covers everything up. Basti can’t imagine Niklas or Jo on the other end of that sort of treatment. A surface-level friendship where there was a pack bond sounded like torture and he wasn’t even a wolf. He kind of wanted to fight Neuer.

“Manu’s kind of an asshole, isn’t he?” Niklas was always on the same page as him without needing an explanation.

“Yeah, Bayern’s full of drama.” He mumbles half-asleep on top of his wolf.

Niklas nudges him by shifting his shoulder. 

“You mean Schalke.” He corrects him softly. 

Bastii yawns in reply.

“Take me to bed.”

-

Their first day together starts by sleeping in. Niklas is fine with that, more than happy to stay in bed with his favorite person. The wolf part of him is still sulking. It doesn't matter that he sleeps better with Basti around or that they have four more days because his One isn't alright. 

He had hesitantly corresponded with Magnus over the issue, not wanting to test the Alpha's temper any further over Bayern's decision to pull them apart. Niklas had accepted it as part of their commitment to the sport they played, but Basti being even less happy at Schalke had made him doubt his certainty. Basti wasn't built to weather this sort of storm alone, and Niklas was chafing under the well-meaning eyes of the Bayern den.

The wolf perked up at the sound of movement, chasing the worried thoughts away until Niklas could only focus on Basti waking up and turning towards him. He can see the slight shiver that goes through him as his arm reaches out above the covers, into the cold air, only to land on Niklas' chest and slide down.

"The bed moves when you do that." Basti had called it purring once, only for Niklas to tickle him into tears and make him swear to never call it that again. The sub-vocal growl was half comfort and half contentment at having Basti so close. 

Although, they could stand to be closer. Niklas reels Basti in like his instinct demands.

They stay silent, not giving into sleep, just drinking in the sight of each other in the pale sunlight of winter. Basti's fingers sweep down his tattoos until settling on his hip, gripping tight for just a moment before relaxing. His thumb moves back and forth, slow hypnotizing drags that hit the edge of his waistband.

Niklas doesn't whine but he can't help shivering with want. It's more than want, wrapped in longing and the howling, desperate truth of having Basti here with him in bed, in an apartment that doesn't smell enough of him. He would move a mountain with his bare hands if Basti wanted him to. That was the power he held over him, tangled with heady love and feral instinct. But Basti would never ask him to do the impossible. He wouldn't even ask him to leave Bayern.

Niklas leans down to rest his forehead on Basti's own. He watches wonder and love fill his eyes up close. It makes his belligerent heart burst with hope. He feels the sharp little pinpricks of nails on his hip before Basti breathes out.

"You're here. You're staying." It's not as steady as Basti would want him to believe because Niklas had good ears and good hearing. The shades of starving need, of disbelief were still there, but he could fix that.

"I'm here." I love you clogs his throat, makes his eyes sting. 

"Niklas," He had closed his eyes against the feel of Basti's hands on his face. No one ever said his name like he did. The other wolves had tried and tried to comfort him but his wild edges could only be soothed by Basti, by his One.

He doesn't cry beyond taking a few shaky breaths and moving to bury his face into Basti's neck. The feral need to touch only climbs higher in his blood, waiting with baited breath and claws. His human rationality was content to stay in bed and act like an oversized heated blanket for Basti. The wolf was stuck on 'bed'.

"We can't stay in bed all day." He gets the urge to chew up Basti's shirt collar, if only to avoid marking up Basti's neck with his teeth. Hickeys wouldn't go away fast enough to be gone by the end of the week. The wolf doesn't find a fault with that. 

"It's snowing. We could be lazy." Basti reaches up to run a hand through Niklas' hair, lightly scratching on his way back down. Niklas goes boneless. 

"Jesus, Sippi, you know I can't resist-" you, this, us, he doesn't know which to end it on, but he does know how to buy himself some time to stop thinking about Basti in terms of devouring him like a bad supernatural erotica. There's only one drive that supersedes this urge. 

"Breakfast," he practically stumbles out of bed, getting up hastily. "Let me, let me feed you. I can make breakfast. Stay here." Niklas wants to kiss the confusion off of Basti's face, and is tempted on many more things besides that, but providing food is starting to sound like a good idea. He makes himself focus on the room, on the walls beyond, and fortifies his decision. 

"Okay," he hears Basti agree slowly, before dashing off into the kitchen. He circles back a few times to touch the walls between the living room and the guest bedroom. It wasn't going to last very long, but it was better than the absence of his smell. Niklas pointedly ignored the other ways he could intermingle their scents in the apartment. This was always going to be a temporary home for Basti until they could get a house together because what was home without the other.

He raids the fridge and makes his battle plan, only checking in on Basti once by stretching out his hearing range and finding a wall of water from the shower running.

Niklas starts the coffee and boils some eggs before re-thinking his options and taking some more eggs out to scramble. Fruit cut and yogurt served on an improvised serving tray, he makes his way back to the bedroom.

"Hey," Basti looks up from his phone, slightly flushed from the steam of his shower, but smiling a little at the food offering. He hadn't made the bed. Sheets were still trailing the floor where Niklas had made his escape, but Basti scooted over to the left to give him room to sit next to him. 

"That's a lot, even to share." He points out the small mountain of muesli on top of the yogurt with a spoon. 

Niklas couldn't apologize for the overabundance. He knew it was the first thing Basti would go for on the tray. He tears apart a bread roll instead. Instinct tells him to wait until Basti has tried something. Hunger tells him he's overdue a meal. He must look conflicted because Basti rolls his eyes and dutifully takes a spoonful of the yogurt and motions for him to dig in.

It's not the best scramble he's had, but it's with Basti, so it makes it the best in recent memory.

"I left the sausage for later on, if we got hungry." Basti's fridge was well-stocked, so he wasn't exactly worried over their food situation if they decided to stay inside.

"If you get hungry later, you mean. This was plenty." He pats his stomach before adding a thank you. 

"I wanted to. You know it means more, to do this for you. You don't have to thank me for it." His wolf prowls endlessly in a circle, agitated. Niklas isn't and has never been very good at explaining the needs and significance of certain habits and customs among werewolves. Basti was intuitive enough to catch on most of the time, but he was still human, still fallible. The first few months after Basti knew his secret, he still treated it as a dichotomy within him, beast and man at odds with each other, but Niklas was born knowing his kind and his instinct.

His instincts towards Basti had been overwhelming, were still stronger than he anticipated at times, especially during the full moon.

"Still. You did a good job." And that does the trick, satisfaction warming him like a shot of alcohol. Praise meant a job well done and there were so few things he could do for his One in such a short time. Basti put the tray aside to get more comfortable, sprawled out instead of sitting up. It was only when tugged the fork out of his hand that Niklas understood. 

Scenting was a lot like marking your territory, and Basti had been an extremely fast and efficient learner when they'd finally caught their stride in Bayern. Wolves were naturally touchy and prone to leaving their mark somehow. Scent was just one of the easiest ways to do so. 

And Basti was a blank slate currently, or at least as blank as he could get, freshly showered and without a hint of cologne or gel or deodorant. He still smelled like Niklas in a way that couldn't be washed off, but it was less pronounced than he liked and Basti was entirely too easy-going with this over everything else werewolf-related.

"Come on, do your thing." It was faux-impatience wrapped in a challenge. Niklas had to tread carefully, no matter what the wolf had in mind.

It's easier to give in to urges than to fight them with common sense. 

He settles his weight down on his knees, straddling Basti without putting pressure on him just yet. The thrum of his blood makes him fully aware that he isn't going to escape this without a hard-on and it makes him think Basti knew exactly what he was doing when he stayed shirtless through breakfast. It's a confirmed notion when he tilts his head back, long pale throat on display. A cheap trick yet it still made Niklas want to bite the spot just below his adam's apple. It wasn't even his preferred spot to leave a mark, but it always snagged his hind brain's attention.

Vampires and Werewolves were supposed to have a common ancestor far down the family tree. Niklas half-believed it.

The first order of business is rubbing their cheeks, his stubble scratchy and making Basti's lips part with the slightest of sounds. He traces his nose across the skin behind his ears and flicks out his tongue just a bit, tasting residual water and a hint of sweat. He could hear Basti's heartbeat going wild, a fast-paced drum to go along with his breathing. 

He curls his hands over his shoulders before licking up the side of Basti's neck. Saliva didn't really carry any scent markers. It just felt better to scrape his teeth against.

Basti arched up, hips knocking into Niklas' abdomen, panting harshly.

"Niklas," needy and pleading, it was sweet in his ears. The wolf growled out in approval, and Niklas worked his way down, rubbing and nipping at Basti until he smelled right. Tunnel vision helped him stay on track until he got to his sweatpants. It was a frustrating piece of fabric in his way, but it was no match for claws. 

“Hey,” Basti caught his clawed hands on his hips, seconds away from tearing into his pants. It’s a douse of cold water mentally. Niklas had forgotten he had hands, or how to work them enough to pull at the drawstrings. He shakes off Basti’s hands to retract his claws, wincing at the blood that welled up from his nail beds. 

There’s a part of him that wants to continue, that can smell how close Basti was. 

“Your eyes are kind of yellow.” He sounds a little breathless but not afraid. Basti’s hand tilts his head up to get a better look. Niklas blinks rapidly like that would help recede the change. It makes him aware of the absolute mess he’s made of Basti.

“Are you okay?” He traces a fingertip around a hickey he doesn’t really remember leaving but judging by the location and color, it had been one of the last things he’d done. 

Basti flicks his ears. 

“You need your ears checked if you think that was anything but enthusiastic encouragement. What’s bothering you?” 

Niklas snorts, laughing at the absurdity of Basti not knowing what was wrong.

“The full moon.” He says a little sarcastically. It’s not fair to take out his frustration on him, but he was more scared than angry. He could barely remember the last ten minutes because he couldn’t control himself. It was embarrassing and dangerous. The wolf wasn’t just a part of him. It was him, and Basti was his in every iteration of himself. It made the wolf run a little closer to the surface, and it had gotten worse and worse with every meeting and parting they had. 

“That’s not for another week.” Basti scrunches his face into a confused squint. 

“The last full moon, our first wolf moon together.” He knew it had been a bad idea from the start, but after the traditional run with his family and pack, it didn’t seem so bad, even after all the ribbing and newlywed jokes. The holiday had made him feel giddy and invincible. Niklas hadn’t counted on how raw he would feel after the change, new skin and every one of his senses dialed up, all imprinting on his One, on Basti. 

He flinches back at the memory, but Basti doesn’t let him go far.

“Why?” He meets him head on, and Niklas is so stupidly fond of how human Basti is in these moments. His body language is completely wrong when dealing with a predator.

“Why what?” Niklas parrots back.

“Why does it bother you. What about it.” Basti would never be afraid of confrontation, but Niklas rears up, demanding he be face to face with the wolf still under his skin. 

“This, this is what bothers me. I shouldn't be like _this_ with you. Ever since the transfer, it's been harder to control the change. And the last moon, I was-"

"Rough?" Niklas shakes his head.

"-out of control. I could hurt you." He had left bruises the last time. 

He expected him to agree, to say something along the lines of working on his control was a priority, possibly to kick him out of bed for being his own cockblock but he only sees Basti's jaw clench, his lips flattening down to an angry line.

"Nik, do you think I'm stupid?" is what comes out of his mouth instead of 'get out'.

Niklas goes mute with surprise for a second before his brain catches up and his mouth hangs open with disbelief.

"What? No, no, of course not." He's a little offended that Basti would even think that about himself, much less accuse him of thinking it. 

Basti digs his pointer finger into his chest, "You, Boa, Magnus, hell, even Mats had a talk with me over this. You're the wolf, the wolf is you. Would _you_ hurt me? Would I let you hurt me? How is it losing control if you're still going to be you." He jabs with each question, but his voice gets softer, the anger banking itself.

"No," It goes against everything he is to even imagine hurting Basti. "I wouldn't." 

"Then why would the wolf? Or you a little more wolf-ish? Wolfed out? There has to be a better word for it." Basti looks distracted enough by wording conventions that Niklas takes a moment to ride the tidal wave of crushing love he feels for him. Because it all boiled down to Basti trusting him enough to not be afraid in whatever shape he came to him. 

Niklas kisses him.

"You trust me." It's like a thousand realizations at once and it makes him smile wide with wonder.

"You're mine and I'm yours. How could I not trust you?" Basti never qualifies them beyond belonging to each other, but Niklas understands what he means, understands that he feels the same certainty no matter if he can't find the perfect word for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't really know why i switched POV from basti to niklas but it felt right since the previous editions were basti centered. half of this is an exercise in how many easter egg ships can i fit into this verse so i have an excuse to talk about them some more but i also really appreciate how soft these idiots are about each other. 
> 
> I finally named the alpha of munich. is magnus even really a german name, don't ask me. 
> 
> the bonus bit in the next chapter is just smut so if that's not your thing, totally optional content.


	2. so move me, baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just exercising my smut skills.

It's not until much later and after a few dizzyingly slow kisses that Basti circles back to the other, unfinished conversation they needed to have.

"I liked it, being with you for the wolf moon." He confesses without hesitation. "I didn't like leaving eight hours afterwards to get to training practice and know that a quarter of them could smell you on me in various ways." 

Niklas could feel himself getting red, heat radiating from his face.

"Didn't you shower?" Basti groaned and covered his face in embarrassment.

"I didn't have time. I fell asleep when I got back here and had lunch before having to leave again. It was awkward and terrible. Mark looked like he had to sneeze the entire time. Ralf kept making stupid jokes and I think I scarred Breel for life in the showers. So, yes, thanks for that, but it's not a problem for me, if you wanted to...let your wild side out sometimes." 

Niklas theoretically was on board, now that he was calmer, but doubt stuck itself like a burr in the back of his mind. 

"I want to, but I'm afraid I'll be too..."

-

Rough or out of it or a thousand other fears related to breaking the human in the relationship. Basti wasn't scared at all really. It felt more like adrenaline right before doing something insane or scoring a goal and he was ready. 

"We could start slow." He suggests. Niklas looks doubtful and between Basti's need for contact and Niklas' zone outs, he doesn't blame him. 

"Trust me." Basti rearranges them, balancing on Niklas' thighs before resuming the unhurried kissing from before. Easy and slow. Niklas drew back after slightly too long, air becoming more of a necessity. Basti tugged his bottom lip with his teeth. Niklas groaned.

"What happened to slow?" His hands roam.

"This, is, slow." He says between breaths and Niklas' tongue mapping the inside of his mouth. He wanted something else in his mouth since he'd been denied his turn after the scent marking. 

"Such a liar." Niklas wheezes out before pinching his nipple. Basti hisses out a curse, jumping at the jolt. They had already been sensitive from earlier. Niklas mouths at his shoulder, teeth carefully tucked away. 

Basti feels like the animal when he drags his blunt nails down Niklas' back to return the favor. Niklas' hands clamp down on his hips, dragging him closer. His thumb digs into the hickey he left there earlier and it makes Basti squirm until he's grinding down on Niklas' lap. It's not quite the right angle but he's fast losing the ability to put sentences together.

It would be easier if they were more naked. 

"You have to take this off." He fumbles at the shorts beneath him awkwardly. The satiny smooth fabric hid nothing. 

The last time, Niklas had shown up naked, smelling like the woods and blood, and Basti had known what to do and where to go. This felt more frantic, more urgent than the wolf moon celebration.

"No," Niklas bit out, sounding on the verge of growling. His hands push at his sweatpants until they're half-way down to his knees and Niklas slides down the bed, holding him by his backside to roll him back onto his dick. 

"Oh," is punched out of him. Niklas doesn't let him set the pace, rocking them together in a dirty grind that sparks against every one of Basti's nerve endings. Niklas' shorts are thoroughly ruined by the time Basti is begging to come, to ride him, to touch.

Something must get through, because Niklas pins him down on his back, giving him barely a minute to kick his pants off the rest of the way, before diving face first onto his cock. It's the rest of the scenting continued, concentrated on one specific area and it's torture. Niklas nuzzles and licks and takes his time with his thighs and balls until Basti strains against his hold to yank at his hair.

He sees golden irises look up at him before his mouth is finally where it should be and he can't keep himself upright enough to watch, aware of nothing but heat and sensation. 

Niklas doesn't stop until he comes, purposefully letting it dribble out of his mouth to smear it over him as he butts his head against Basti's belly before leaning on his arms to kiss him.

Basti doesn't mind the taste of himself on Niklas' tongue, but he wanted to feel him. He wanted Niklas naked and just as torn apart as he felt.

It's easy to take advantage of Niklas' precarious balance to roll them over and get rid of his basketball shorts.

Skin hunger wasn't cured by sex, but it helped tide him over, helped him remember he wasn't alone. It was also the closest he could be to Niklas without going overboard. Basti was less prone to savagery before he met Niklas. It was like every beat of his heart repeated he was his, he was his, until Basti wanted to crawl out of his skin and into Niklas'. 

Magnus had laughed and told him he would make a good wolf while outlining some of the more disgusting traditions from wolf history. Mats had said it was the bond transference, that everything had to be in balance and if it really bothered him to talk to a specialist. Basti had ripped up the card, but not before finding out they were based out of Bochum and one of the best in the country.

It didn't bother him so much as he didn't know what to do with those urges besides channel them into sex.

The lube was cold and slick as his fingers reached behind him. Teasing both Niklas and himself with the prep. It only made Niklas whine before he preoccupied himself with rubbing circles into his skin after jacking himself off indulgently slow. Basti still wanted to suck him off but he needed him inside him more. He took one of Niklas' hands and sucked on two fingers. He could taste an array of bitter and metallic and salt.

Niklas let out a groan, but it was deeper, guttural with an unnatural bass.

It was easy then, to let Niklas take over, fingers sliding into him, thicker than his own and with more of an agenda than his perfunctory touches. Basti goes hard and keens with every glance of his prostate. Niklas grins, baring his teeth. 

He manhandles Basti until they're facing the same way and the head of his cock is sinking into him. He's practically sobbing on top of Niklas, steadily unraveling until Niklas snaps his hips, thrusting in all the way, staying there, panting hot breath where Basti's shoulder meets his neck. 

Basti feels delirious, full, and wild. The bond exists as real as he is, in this headspace where all that matters is Niklas and him joined and touching. 

Niklas is the one who breaks, who moves his hips enough to inch out and go back, pulling at him as if he could get deeper if he only tried hard enough. Basti only cares enough to keep him there, inside, and wraps a hand around his dick, shuddering with overstimulation.

Niklas shifts just enough to catch the back of his neck with his teeth, not biting down, but making him aware that he could. Basti goes faster, remembering how long it took for the bite to heal last time, remembering how it felt to be under a half-feral Niklas. 

"I'm close. I'm close." He gasps out. Niklas covers his hand, squeezing just a fraction tighter, still rolling into him, until it's unbearable.

"Bite." Basti doesn't manage to get out the 'me' because he's already over the edge and the pain mixes in perfectly with the rush. Niklas bites down hard, his own orgasm kicking into him with force. Basti feels him pull out obscenely wet, only to push back in a moment later with the last dying spurts.

Arousal plucks at him again, but Basti was spent. 

Niklas' hand runs through the come splattered on his stomach and bends him over so he could trail his covered hand on his back, across his shoulder blades, down his spine. Basti falls down to his elbows, exhausted. 

"I'm still going to clean off." He mumbles into his arms, hissing slightly when Niklas leaves him empty and thoroughly debauched. Both of his hands join in to the pantomime of a back massage. Werewolves were absolutely filthy.

"Not yet." Niklas replies with a normal, if not hoarse voice.

"Not yet," He agrees, closing his eyes for a nap.

"It smells right now." Niklas whispers beside him. They're strangely sprawled on the bed. He's almost sure Niklas' legs are hanging off of the side, even without opening his eyes, and all he smells is what they just got done doing, but he's his and questions led to answers.

"What does?" 

"This room. It smells like me and you and home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....and that's when Basti realizes he's in love with a freak that doesn't believe in air fresheners. 
> 
> but that's okay, because they're both freaky lbr.


End file.
